


Only One Model Available

by LittleMewLugia (Lugianna)



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-05-29 01:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lugianna/pseuds/LittleMewLugia
Summary: When Sam awakens after blacking out during a thunderstorm, he discovers that he has been restructured into an Autobot. However, there are some problems with the body…Oneshot.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT a story where Sam is changed into a femme.

Only One Model Available.

Prologue.

When Sam awakens after blacking out during a thunderstorm, he discovers that he has been restructured into an Autobot. However, there are some problems with the body…

 

Sam and Miles were sitting upstairs in Sam's room when it started, playing some games on Miles' new X-box, which had been a surprisingly cheap purchase on 'buy it now' on eBay. It had been too good an offer to miss, and Miles had taken the opportunity and bought it.

It was a collection-only deal, and Sam and Bumblebee had run Miles out to collect it from a guy who lived in Mission City. He had seemed most eager to hand it over, and then for them to go once they'd handed over the cash. Sam had thought that the man seemed a little too eager to get the X-box off his hands, and had discovered why on the way home.

Miles had begun screaming, and when Sam had turned to look, it was a good thing it was Bumblebee doing the driving, for what Sam saw would have caused him to crash.

A multitude of small, thin arms and hands had erupted from the box and were clinging to Miles-the skin of his face-his T-shirt, his arms, his Jeans.

"Bumblebee, activate your hologram!" Sam had cried, about to scramble through to the back and help pick the clinging pinching things off Miles.

"No Sam, you drive, I'll talk to it, Sam, it's _terrified!_ " Bumblebee had cried, so Sam had taken over Bumblebee's steering, and a millisecond later, Miles' alarmed cries had subsided to a whimper.

Sam had chanced a look back to see all the nippy little hands transferring their grip to Miles' T-shirt or the box, rather than Miles' sensitive skin. Bumblebee had explained that the young Cybertronian they belonged to was scared, and had grabbed the nearest thing. It had apologised to Bumblebee for hurting Miles, and Bumblebee told Sam and Miles that he was now talking to the X-box, transferring data, giving it knowledge of the Earth and humans, and the Autobots and Decepticons, giving it something else to focus on rather than its fear.

Miles had been told all about Sam's excursion in Mission City and had been introduced to all the Autobots a month earlier, and once he realised he was only being grabbed at by the equivalent of a terrified child, he opened the box and shushed the sentient X-box, gently stroking its casing and telling it that everything would be all right, and that it was amongst friends who would look after it and protect it.

By the time they had got it back to Sam's, a nasty storm cloud was building, and Bumblebee explained that the X-box-or "X-bot" as Sam had privately named it-was one of the sentient Earth machines that had been created when Sam had dropped the AllSpark in Mission City, causing a discharge of life-giving Sparkforce. It was less frightened of them and the world around it by then, but Bumblebee had told Sam that X-bot wanted to do something it was more familiar with, to get back to something approaching "normality"-as much as things could ever be normal now for X-bot, now it had a Spark.

It wanted Sam and Miles to play games on it.

So Sam and Miles had taken X-bot upstairs and hooked it up to Sam's telly, and were playing some of the games that had come with it, when the electrical storm broke. Thunder rumbled and sheet lightning flared outside, and Miles felt his hair stand on end, and also felt something _else_ in the air nearby change. Miles was about to suggest to Sam that they tell X-bot that they would need to pause for a bit, when a cry from Sam tore his attention away from X-bot and the storm.

Sam was on the floor, twitching and jerking as if in the throes of a massive epileptic seizure. However, to Miles' knowledge, Sam was not epileptic, and epilepsy could not explain the way Sam's skin was rippling, changing colour, nor explain the incandescent light that flared in his chest and enveloped his twitching form.

Miles could only think of one thing to do. He ran to the window and threw it open.

"Bumblebee! Call Ratchet! Something weird is happening to Sam!"


	2. Realisation.

Only One Model Available.

 

"Ow!" Sam said as he came to. He didn't notice the difference in the sound of his voice. He was still trying to remember how he had ended up out cold in the first place. Then he remembered.

 

He had been upstairs with Miles and X-bot, and they had been playing games. The storm had broken and he had felt his skin tingling and every hair on his body stand on end, and then he had been shaking, as an incredible, indescribable burst of energy had seemed to explode in his chest, filling and overflowing from his body. Everything had been bright, shining, and then the sensations he had felt had become too much, and he had passed out.

 

He opened his eyes, and things were at first a blur, then snapped sharply into focus. He was lying on his back, looking at the ceiling of a place he recognised: Ratchet's medical bay. However, he was looking at it from a position he had never viewed it from before: as one of Ratchet's patients.

 

The medical bay (and the rest of the Autobot's base on Earth) had been provided by a grateful President, with the agreement of Congress and the American public, after the events in Mission City, where the actions of the Autobots had not only reduced civilian casualties, but near enough eliminated the current Decepticon threat to not just the U.S, but the whole world. The U.S Military were also aware that there may be more Decepticons out there heading Earth's way, and had advised the move: if more Decepticons did turn up, allying themselves with the Autobots made practical, as well as tactical, sense.

 

"Ah, Sam, you're awake, are you?" Ratchet's voice said, and a moment later the Autobot medic came into Sam's field of vision. However, something about the size and the perspective seemed somehow _wrong_.

 

Sam sat up, and it was as he did so, that he realised that something was _very_ wrong. He was sat on Ratchet's big medical recovery table, where his patients recovered from his ministrations, and it stood level with Ratchet's waist. Ratchet was standing next to the table, Sam's head should have been level with the bottom of Ratchet's chest, but instead, Sam's head was above that of the twenty-foot medic.

Just what was going on here? Sam could think of many words to describe Ratchet, but until now, _small_ had never been one of them.

 

"Sam, do not exert yourself. Even though you are one of us now, your change has only just finished, and you will need to get used to the difference in your new body's size and mass, for the difference between what you were, and what you now are, is substantial."

"One-of you?" Sam asked, this time noting the odd tone and sound of his voice, which he found disturbing.

 

"You're a Cybertronian now, Sam-an Autobot, I'd say." Ratchet explained. "The electrical storm earlier seems to have triggered some residual AllSpark energy that must have been lying dormant somewhere inside you. It was probably a side-effect of the AllSpark's destruction. There must have been some feedback and energy leakage back towards you. The storm seems to have activated it, and I am assuming that as the AllSpark had not before dealt with organic life, the residual energy took your organic state as an illness, and sought to remedy the perceived sickness. It has rebuilt and reconfigured your organic structure into a new, mechanical one. However, that has not been without its complications, not least of which is that the AllSpark energy has had to model your exoskeleton on something, and that-"

 

Ratchet was cut off as Sam leaped to his feet with an inarticulate yell of shock. He was staring at the window, and he barely heard Ratchet, who had followed his gaze, say "I was afraid something like this might happen,” as he fell over with a ground-shaking bump.

Sam wasn't concentrating on what Ratchet was saying, for his thoughts were whirling in a panic. He had let his eyes wander over to the window, and had reacted in shock to whom he had seen staring back.

 

_Megatron_.

 

Sam didn't know how that was possible. Megatron was _dead_ , but there he had been, as ugly as ever. Sam scrambled back to his feet, for he could not risk being caught flat on his aft if Megatron had somehow returned. As he stood, Sam noticed two things in the situation that, despite its urgency, struck Sam as odd.

First of all, when he himself was standing, it became evident that he was somehow a good ten or twelve feet higher than Ratchet. Ratchet, even by Cybertronian standards, was no short-aft.

 

Secondly, Ratchet himself, although he had looked where Sam had, did not seem to be panicking about Megatron's presence. It was possible, he supposed, that Ratchet hadn't noticed, but knowing the medic's eagle eyes for even the slightest bit of damage, Sam somehow doubted that that was the reason.

 

He looked back to make sure that he hadn't been seeing things, but no, he was still there, and that was when Sam spotted several other things that were very out of place.

 

Since when had Megatron had blue optics? How come he himself looked as startled as Sam felt? Why was it, when Sam moved his right hand out, Megatron did the same thing with his left, almost like his reflection in a mirror…..

"Oh _shit_ , Ratchet."

 

The phrase sprang unbidden from Sam's lips as the horrible truth began to dawn on him. As if to confirm Sam's unspoken thoughts, Ratchet began to speak again, laying one hand on Sam's wrist.

"The AllSpark energy appears to have based your exoskeleton on the last Cybertronian it was in contact with."

 

Sam's thoughts were in a whirl as one particular realisation came to him, and he wondered how he could overcome one overriding problem with his new form.

 

Bumblebee was going to be terrified of Sam's new look.

 

Sam sat back down on Ratchet's table with another thud.

"Oh, shit." was all he could think of to say. Ratchet spoke again in a voice full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Sam."


	3. Rationalisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumblebee is terrified, and Sam is upset.

Only Available In This Model.

Rationalization.

Sam stood unsteadily in the medical bay, holding Bumblebee's limp form-so _small_ suddenly-in both hands, seriously wishing that the last five minutes had not happened.

It seemed that the last thing that Ratchet had conveyed to Bumblebee - who had been anxiously waiting at the other end of the med bay since Sam had been brought in - was that Sam was turning into an Autobot. Even though the sound of Sam's voice was different (as Bumblebee had expected, as Sam wasn't even human any more) Bumblebee had obviously still recognised the syntax, dialect, accent, and cadence of Sam's speech.

Bumblebee had not seen Sam since Ratchet had taken him into the medical bay, so his reaction to realising that Sam was awake and talking was probably entirely predictable, had Ratchet had more time to think things through.

Bumblebee had burst into the medical bay without knocking, calling "Sam?" As Sam had turned, still sitting, to face Bumblebee, the movement had caught Bumblebee's optics. Bumblebee's optics had widened as his processors had registered the form sitting on the table and recognised it as a threat. This triggered a response common to both humans and Cybertronians-the "fight or flight" response.

Bumblebee's response was the first option.

Sam saw Bumblebee brace his feet, drop his battle mask, and power up his cannon. "What have you done to Sam, you Decepticon piece of scum!" Bumblebee cried.

Standing, still wobbly as he was unused to his current size and mass, he had taken one step towards Bumblebee, almost overbalancing as he did so. As Bumblebee had pointed his cannon towards Sam, Ratchet had rushed around saying "Bumblebee, don't, not in here!"

Ratchet managed to get to Bumblebee a few seconds before Bumblebee had fired, pushing his cannon away from Sam and holding it aside. The blast blew out all of the glass in the window it ended up aimed at, but no more harm was done than that. The step Sam had taken was sufficiently close to put Bumblebee within arm's reach. Dropping down into a crouch, steadying himself with one hand on the ground, Sam used the other to scoop Bumblebee up and clasp him to his chest. Dropping to both knees, Sam reached his other hand up to keep Bumblebee's cannon pointed away from him, effectively preventing Bumblebee from harming either himself or Sam.

It was a technique Sam had used on his smaller cousins when they were toddlers, and had got aggressive or violent. He had used his arms and hands to restrain them, holding them against his body until such a time as they wore themselves out or calmed down. It was a non-violent reaction to a threat, and a way of making sure they could not cause harm to either themselves, anyone else who happened to be present, or Sam himself.

Unfortunately, to Bumblebee, it hearkened back to an earlier and _very_ unpleasant situation.

Unable to fight or flee, Bumblebee's instincts led him to a third option, one that shut Bumblebee off temporarily from the situation he found himself in.

He let out a keen of utter terror, and offlined.

Offlining-or fainting, in human terms-was not a survival technique, featuring, as it did, a total shut-down of all non-essential systems. However, in certain overwhelmingly terrifying situations, it could happen. For Bumblebee, being held, powerless to fight back or flee, by someone who was (apparently) a known deadly enemy, who was supposed to be _dead_ , definitely qualified.

Feeling Bumblebee's body sag, Sam transferred his grip, both hands holding Bumblebee around the back and chest. He held him away from himself, noting the unlit optics and way Bumblebee's head was canted to one side, how all his limbs hung like a puppet with it's strings cut.

"Bumblebee!" he cried in distress.

Sam stared at Bumblebee hanging in his hands and wished the past five minutes could have somehow happened differently.

"Sam, Could you put him down? Lie him on the table and get out of sight. I'll re-online him and explain everything to him. Then if we let him approach you in his own time, I'm sure we can get past this problem,” said Ratchet.

Sam carefully turned his upper body, laying Bumblebee's limp form tenderly on the table he had come around on. Without his optics lit, and without any tone to his body, the little Autobot scout looked painfully like a broken toy as he lay on the huge table. Standing, Sam leaned against the wall for support, and moved around the main part of the med bay this way, until he got to the entrance to the emergency medical unit. Slipping around behind it until he was out of sight, Sam then allowed himself to sit, back against the wall, and listened as Ratchet saw to Bumblebee.

"Bumblebee? Bumblebee, it's all right, it's safe,” Sam heard Ratchet say. Sam heard the sound of Bumblebee moving on the table, his cannon powering up, and his cry of "Megatron! Megatron had me! He's supposed to be dead but Megatron had me in his hands!"

"Do you really think you-and I, for that matter-would still be alive and fully functional if that had been Megatron, Bumblebee?" Ratchet asked. "I know what it looked like, but appearances can be deceiving. It can all be explained if you calm down and listen to me. What I have to say may be a little upsetting, but you are in no danger. Will you please hear what I have to say?"

"Y-yes, Ratchet, I trust you and I promise to listen. I'm sorry for reacting like that, you must think I'm a coward for offlining like that."

"No, Bumblebee, no! Do not confuse terror with cowardice! Considering what you've been through, your reaction did not surprise me! You tried to fight, remember, but ending up in what seemed like an impossible situation like that - " Ratchet didn't finish the sentence, but started a new one instead. "Bumblebee, I have seen Autobots twice your age offline for far less. You might be young, impulsive, and sometimes a little overemotional, Bumblebee, but I would never call you coward, and neither would anyone else here."

"You said you would explain things, Ratchet." Bumblebee said. "Please do, I have to know what is going on."

"Do you remember the battle in Mission City, Bumblebee?" Ratchet asked.

"How could I forget that? I lost my feet thanks to Starscream,” said Bumblebee. "I'm glad you were able to replace them." Sam, hearing, winced: how could Ratchet even think that Bumblebee might have forgotten that event?

"Then you recall that the last Cybertronian that the AllSpark was in contact with was the one it destroyed, that is, Megatron?" Ratchet asked.

"I didn't see that happen, but I recall seeing Megatron's dead body. Optimus took the last fragment of AllSpark from his chest cavity." said Bumblebee. "Where's this leading, Ratch?"

"It seems, Bumblebee, that there was some feedback into Sam of AllSpark energy. A natural weather phenomenon, an electrical storm, appears to have triggered what must have been AllSpark energy lying dormant within him, to activate. It has changed Sam into an Autobot, but based his exoskeleton on Megatron's, possibly because with no physical form, the energy does not have anything approaching a large memory bank. Possibly the energy can 'remember' Megatron's form, it being the last one it touched, and has remade Sam in Megatron's image. Sam may _look_ like Megatron, but has not given me any reason to think that he is anything but an Autobot. His optics are even blue instead of red. Bumblebee, would you consider looking at him - in your own time, just approach him and talk to him whenever you feel ready, you can stand out of reach if you like - just to start getting used to how he looks now? He's still Sam in the processors and in the Spark. Will you be brave, Bumblebee, and come and see Sam now? He's keeping himself out of your sight in the emergency medical bay."

"Yes, Ratchet, I'll try to be brave. I want to see Sam." Bumblebee said.

Hearing this, Sam sought to make himself as unthreatening as possible. Checking the floor space, and finding there was enough of it, he lay face-down, head turned to the doorway where Bumblebee would enter, making sure there was a space between the door and his body longer than his arm would reach. He put his arms down by his side, palm-up, hoping Bumblebee would not feel so threatened by him in this position. Sam was hoping that Bumblebee would not only notice the blue optics, but also realise that Megatron would never have willingly put himself in a position such as this, where, should Bumblebee decide to attack, he would have been at a disadvantage.

Optics anxiously fixed on the doorway, Sam waited for Bumblebee to approach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is odd that a robotic being like Ratchet without the fallibilities of human brains would forget to mention to anyone else in the Base, much less Bumblebee, who Sam looks like, but then this story would be a lot shorter. 
> 
> It’s another early one, so please forgive me.


	4. Adjustment

Only One Model Available.

Adjustment.

Bumblebee appeared in the doorway, stopped dead upon seeing Sam, even prone as he was, but then edged a bit closer. Sam, trying to reassure Bumblebee, tried to give his Autobot friend an encouraging smile. As Bumblebee startled and stepped backwards, Sam recalled, a little _too_ late, how very scary Megatron's toothy grin had been.

_Shit!_

Lacking fleshy lips to try and cover the teeth, Sam could only allow the mouth to go back into it's relaxed state. Sam realised that any gestures he was able to make might be misinterpreted. This meant that he had one main method of communication. Thankfully, it was one that, as a human, he was fairly used to: talking.

"Hiya, Bumblebee." he said, his voice sounding too harsh and too forced to his own ears. "It's me, Sam, please try to believe me, I know my appearance suggests otherwise, but it really is me."

Bumblebee didn't move forwards, but he had stopped backing up. Encouraged, Sam continued to talk to Bumblebee, trying to soften his vocal tones.

"Do you remember how we first met, buddy, at Bobby Bolivia's used car lot? I was drawn to you, I commented on your racing stripes. I sat in your seat, and it was very comfortable. You knew then that I was the person you had to guard, didn't you, you tried so hard to make sure I chose you. You made sure that seat was comfy, moulding it to my body, didn't you, buddy, hoping I'd choose you."

Sam paused, looking up: Bumblebee still hadn't made any further movement, but Sam could tell that the little Autobot scout was listening intently. He continued.

"The first time I saw the Autobot logo was when I used my thumb to wipe dust off the centre of the steering wheel. I didn't know what it was then, but I liked it, somehow I knew that it was something special.

Thing is, Bobby Bolivia noticed how much I'd taken to you too. He wanted $5000 for you, but Dad and I had agreed on a budget of $4000. He told me to get out, tried to sell me a Volkswagen Beetle instead." Sam smiled, but close-mouthed, at the memories of what happened next.

"As I recall, you objected-first by whacking the Beetle with your door, and then, when he wouldn't back down, by using your speakers to shatter every other window of every other car in the lot." He smiled again. "'Greater than man' was the quote you used, wasn't it, Bumblebee? You had chosen me as your driver, and no mere human was going to take me away from you. I think Bobby Bolivia must have decided then that there was something odd about you. He let me have you for $4000. Then I got scared after I saw you calling the others, but then you saved me from Barricade, and the rest, as us humans say, is history."

Sam remembered sitting in Bumblebee and driving him off, enjoying the scent of polish and leather and beeswax, and something else he'd never been able to place, something that was in itself a pleasant smell. He realised something he'd not really consciously noticed before. The smell was not just confined to Bumblebee, but was present - although subtly different according to whom it was, - in all the Autobot's vehicle forms.

Looking up from his reflections, he saw that Bumblebee had approached, and was now cautiously reaching out towards his face with one of his small hands. _Small_ hands! He recalled how _large_ those same hands had seemed when he was a six-foot high human rather than a thirty-three foot high robot.

Sam dared not move as Bumblebee's hand inched closer and closer to his face. Bumblebee touched his face very, very, briefly. It was a very light touch, just a brush of one fingertip, before Bumblebee pulled his hand back, as if the touch had burned. Sam didn't move or flinch at the touch, but he briefly shuttered his optics, in what he hoped was the equivalent of a blink, hoping that the brief movement might break the, to humans, possibly threatening stare of his blue optics.

The motion _did_ seem to make Bumblebee react, by moving a step closer to Sam. The yellow Autobot reached out his hand towards Sam's shoulder this time, and although it was once again pulled away as it made contact, it wasn't quite as sudden as the last time, and Sam felt the tips of all three of Bumblebee's fingers touch this time, instead of just the one.

Sam could see, from the rapid shuttering and unshuttering of Bumblebee's blue optics, the small tremor in the usually steady arm and hand of his guardian, the minor twitches of his head on his neck, that Bumblebee was waging an internal war of belief versus fear, the logic of what he had been told against the self-preservation instinct that was telling him to run, fast, to save his Spark. Bumblebee gave a short, sudden nod, as if to reassure himself, and reached out his hand again. Sam felt Bumblebee's fingertips and the tip of his thumb touch the metal hide on his shoulder. This time, as light as the touch was, it remained: this time Bumblebee did not pull away.

Sam glanced down at the hand, then brought his optics back up to Bumblebee's. Recalling how the equivalent of a blink had reassured the little Autobot, he gave Bumblebee a gesture that he knew that Bumblebee understood because he had used it himself a moment ago. Sam dipped his chin slightly in a nod.

The movement startled Bumblebee: he pulled his hand away suddenly, but immediately replaced it, and this time Sam could feel that Bumblebee's entire hand was pressed to his hide, not just the tips of the fingers, but the insides of the digits and the whole palm too. The touch was firmer, too, more confident, and Sam had to fight the urge to smile, because he knew that Bumblebee was over the first difficult stage, and would fight to overcome the subsequent ones ahead. It was a small step, but a significant one.

"That's it, Bumblebee, you're doing great, I'm still Sam, and I promise that I'm not going to hurt you," he tried to reassure further.

Bumblebee abruptly leaned forwards, bringing his other hand onto the shoulder and letting them slide over Sam's plating, resting his chest and face against Sam's shoulder, his hands making small but uncertain caressing motions.

"Sam, I-I'm sorry about earlier." Bumblebee said.

"No, Bumblebee, please don't apologise for that." Sam said. "I understand, I tried to run and fell on my butt when I caught sight of my own reflection."

Bumblebee made a sound Sam recognised as a laugh.

"I guess you'll have to learn to walk again before you can run. Oh, and Sam-on Cybertron, we called the 'butt' the 'aft.'"

"'Aft'. Ok." Sam said, not sure what other reaction he could give to that comment.

"Now that, Bumblebee, is an excellent suggestion." Ratchet said from behind Sam. "We should indeed teach Sam how to walk in his new form. However, first of all, we need to get him in a sitting position, so he can get used to that first. He can gain some equilibrium, and get used to the difference in his height now as opposed to then in this way." He turned to face Bumblebee.

"Bumblebee, I have been advised that Trent has kindly agreed to a request by Mikaela to bring her and Sam's friend Miles up here to see him. Trent himself is, apparently, hanging about the R&R room watching the others, but Mikaela and Miles are waiting outside to see Sam. Can you go and fetch them in, but explain who and what Sam looks like first, and reassure them that he's not dangerous? It'll lessen the shock and forestall any more 'mistaken identity' issues," Ratchet told him.

Bumblebee straightened up from his leaning position on Sam's shoulder. He headed out of the med bay as Ratchet helped push Sam's upper body up so he could sit rather than lie in place.

"Bumblebee has made excellent progress, Sam, better than I had hoped, in fact, but seeing you sitting up is going to make him nervous again, so please do not be too disappointed if he draws back or stands out of reach, it's normal and natural, he will just need time to override his instincts." Ratchet sighed.

"For reasons of patient confidentiality, I will not go into details, but let's just say that Bumblebee underwent a great deal of suffering at Megatron's hands, and what Megatron did to him still gives him bad dreams when he shuts down and recharges. He will not be able to overcome his memories over one hour. He will need time to adjust. He _will_ adjust, don't worry about that, but please do not get discouraged if he seems to suffer a setback. Bumblebee has suffered more in his short life than many mechs have endured in a full lifetime." Ratchet told Sam.

"Okay." Sam agreed.

At that moment, they heard three voices - Mikaela's, Miles' and Bumblebee's - as the three entered the first part of the med bay. Bumblebee was just finishing up a quick explanation of what had happened to Sam, and then the three walked in.

Bumblebee stopped a foot from the doorway, looking at Sam's face, which was abruptly level with Bumblebee's own, although Bumblebee was standing, and Sam was sat down. Miles looked up and also stopped in shock, his complexion paling a bit. Mikaela, too, stopped nervously and looked up, and as Sam's three friends looked at Sam's now fearsome visage, there was a tense silence.

It was Mikaela who broke the tension. Smiling, she folded her arms and took three steps towards Sam.

"Sam, when I said I liked a guy with really big arms, this wasn't what I meant!" she teased.

Bumblebee, Sam, and Miles couldn't help it. With the release of tension, the energy had to go somewhere. They all burst into laughter, and Mikaela's higher-pitched laugh joined with theirs.


	5. Equilibrium

Only One Model Available.

Equilibrium.

A/N: Thanks to Darcorn from fanfictiondotnet for some of the ideas used in this chapter.

"Woah!" said Sam, as he took a few steps forward. One hand was propping up that side of his body against the wall while Ratchet was stood the other side, locking his knees as Sam grabbed at his shoulder to brace himself the other side. "I hope this'll get easier."

"You're doing great, Sam, it's just the balance you need to work out now, come on!" Mikaela encouraged him from the other end of the med bay where she, Miles, and Bumblebee were waiting for him. Miles nodded encouragingly, while Bumblebee beckoned and nodded too.

Sam was determined to be able to walk unsupported on his own two (rather big) feet by the end of the day. Ratchet had been entirely approving of his attitude, for the more confidence Sam had in his ability to re-learn such an apparently basic skill, the more likely he'd be to succeed.

"Okay Ratchet." Sam said, regaining his balance. "Can I try it without holding on to the wall this time? I think I can balance by leaning a bit on you, and just pushing against the wall if I begin to tip that way."

"Go ahead, Sam, but please try not to put your full weight on me, you mass several tons more than I do." the medic said.

"Well, why not ask Optimus if he's free and get him to help?" asked Sam. "He's closer to my height."

"If you really want to waste three hours while we explain the whole thing to Prime, then yes, we could, but I surmise that learning to walk like _this_ would be a better use of your time, my time, _and_ Prime's." Ratchet said. Sam nodded.

"You're right, of course." he said. Sam knew that the three-hour timescale was not exaggerated. Optimus was nothing if not thorough, wanting all angles covered. This could be useful when planning tactics where the unexpected had to be planned for as much as possible, but his attention to detail could be quite irritating at other times when it wasn’t needed.

Ratchet carefully helped Sam reach where his friends were, achieving it by waving his free arm about, using it to push himself away from the wall when his balance tipped him that way, trying not to lean too heavily on Ratchet when he overbalanced towards him.

He and Ratchet traversed the distance a few more times, Sam having to lean on Ratchet a little less each time, and Sam's confidence grew as his steps became more steady.

The next stage involved letting go of Ratchet and using his arms to balance, while Ratchet paced him, so Sam could give a small touch on either the wall or Ratchet to keep his balance. His control was improving every time, Ratchet noticed. Sam did this a few times, and began speeding up as his balance and confidence improved. Just two hours later, Sam could manage a fair clip, unsupported, up and down the med bay without wobbling too much.

When he and Ratchet both decided he was steady enough on his feet, he decided to take a rest, making his way over to his friends. They must be bored, he surmised. With walking, he had made progress, but he wasn't sure that his mobility inspired much more trust of him in his friends. Bumblebee in particular, he surmised, might just see him as a bigger threat.

He had been thinking that one through, and decided he'd have to enlist the help of Mikaela. Mikaela, because she didn't have Bumblebee's bad experience of torment at Megatron's hands, and because, frankly, she would trust him enough to take risks that Miles, new to the whole 'giant robots from outer space' thing may as yet be unwilling to take. Not that Miles was a coward, but Mikaela was more used to being held in big metal hands than Miles was. Miles hadn't even let Bumblebee pick him up yet, and Bumblebee had not tried because there had been no pressing need for him to do so.

Sam sat down by them.

"Mikaela, can I ask you a question?" he asked. "If you say no, I won't press the issue, and I won't be offended." he said. She reacted as Sam expected her to, with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face, copping an attitude as she put a hand on her hip and tilted her head to look him straight in the optics.

"You can ask whatever you like, but my hand in marriage is out of the question." She tilted her head. "The size difference would only be the first and least of all our problems."

Miles, who was about to buy a bottle of Mountain Dew from a vending machine that stood in the corner of the med bay, gave a funny snort at this. He actually jumped back when the machine didn't even wait for him to put in his money, but opened a pair of bright red optics and held the bottle out to him.

"Uuh, thanks." he said, taking the bottle, and backing off a bit nervously.

"Dewbot, don't be upset, he's not used to our kind and the optics are unsettling him. In human society, red is a colour that signifies danger." said Ratchet. He turned to Miles.

"Don't mind the red optics, Miles, he's an Autobot at heart. The reason his optics are red is because the AllSpark had more Decepticons near it at the time of its enSparkment than Autobots, so made Dewbot's optics red to protect the new Sparkling from being attacked by them. Optics do not always signify faction-after all, Frenzy had blue optics and was one of the most vicious of the Decepticons that reached Earth." he said. "Dewbot's waiting to have his optics replaced with blue ones, but that's a big operation for such a new little 'bot, so I've got him in here to get him used to this environment, and to me, before I perform it."

"Okay, that's cool." said Miles, who had frozen stock-still as Dewbot reached out a hand to pat Miles' head and touch his hair in obvious fascination.

"Okay, Dewbot, that's enough, you're unnerving him." Ratchet said. "I'll see if Will or Epps will come in to see you, and help you satisfy this new fascination with humans you have, okay?" Dewbot stepped back to his corner and resumed his vending-machine form. Ratchet stepped out for a short time, to give Miles, Sam, Mikaela, and Bumblebee some time to themselves.

As Miles sat back down, Mikaela said "What was it you wanted to ask, Sam?"

He put one of his hands on the ground beside her, palm-up, fingers out.

"Would you trust me enough to step on to my hand and let me lift you up to my chest and face?" he asked.

She briefly looked apprehensive, but then flicked a strand of hair back over her shoulders and said "Of course I trust you, Sam, go ahead." She stepped into his hand carefully, seating herself and holding the stem of his thumb for support.

Carefully, and slowly, Sam lifted Mikaela up until she was level with his chest. Equally slowly, he brought his other hand up behind her, to cup protectively around the portion of his hand near her back that was open to the air. He drew her closer to his chest, and she stood up, and reached out to touch the curving, knobbled and ridged metal and smooth contours of his chest. Gently, he moved the hand she was not standing on to gently but firmly hold her to his chest in the nearest equivalent to a hug that he could give her.

Then, putting his hand back behind her, he lifted her to his face - to the _side_ of his face, for to place her in front of that toothsome mouth could startle her. She was in enough of a frontwise position, however, to look him directly in one of his blue optics. She flinched briefly as he lifted the index finger of his free hand and extended it to its full length. She looked nervously at the razor-sharp claw that tipped it. _'Along with the teeth, something else to add to the List Of Things To Ask Ratchet To Change.'_ Sam thought.

Careful to keep that nano-fine claw-edge away from her fragile skin, he used the narrow part of the lengthened finger to gently stroke the back of her head, continuing down her neck and back. He watched her face and body carefully for a reaction, and Mikaela herself was glad that by the third stroke she could relax, for his touch, even in a Megatron-sized body, was so light and gentle that she did not, by then, feel at all threatened.

After a short time, Sam stopped caressing her, and carefully lowered her to the ground, where she stepped off his hand. Leaving it there, he looked at Bumblebee hopefully, but Bumblebee saw his look and put his hands up, shaking his head. Sam inwardly sighed-he guessed it was too soon. Ratchet had told him that Bumblebee had been badly hurt by Megatron, it would take longer than a day to get him to entirely trust Sam in his new form.

"Woah, man, that looked _scary!_ " Miles said to Mikaela, eyes wide.

"Hey, relax, Miles, Sam wouldn't have hurt me. Yes, there were a couple of unnerving moments but hey, he's still Sam." she said.

"Yeah, but the other robot, the one that was in Mission City that Sam resembles, _that_ one was swatting humans like we would swat flies."

"Miles, Sam is _not_ the same as Megatron!" she said, more sharply than she had intended.

"Hey, sis, I know, I know, I guess it just takes some getting used to." he said. He looked up at Sam again.

"Sorry, bro," he said.

Mikaela stood up.

"Look, I'll leave you and Bumblebee to spend more time getting used to him in your own time. Someone's going to have to tell Optimus and the others, or they're gonna be as startled as we were. See you in about half an hour." She walked out of the medical bay.

"Closer to an hour, for Optimus alone." muttered Sam.

It was, however, just a minute before the sounds of two raised human voices were heard. Although the exact content was muffled, Sam could hear that the voices belonged to Trent and Mikaela, and Sam could hear that Trent wanted to get back to Tranquility, and Mikaela wanted to stay at the Autobot base. Sam knew that Ratchet had human beds made up in another room for human guests, so that shouldn't have been an issue, but as Sam listened further, the issue became clear.

Trent wanted to go back in his car, with Mikaela, and from his tone, Sam could tell that Trent was hoping for a kiss and cuddle, and maybe more, in the back while he stopped briefly. Mikaela's tone was making it quite clear that not only did she not want to leave the base, she didn't want to give him that kiss and cuddle either.

It was when Trent's voice changed from pleading and cajoling to firm and slightly menacing, and Mikaela, clearly enough for even Miles' human ears to hear, sharply said "Trent, let me _go_!" that Sam, without really thinking, acted.

Scrambling to his feet, he strode across the length of the med bay, past Ratchet who had just exited the Recharge Room, obviously having heard the exchange himself and planning to investigate. "Sam, _no_!" Ratchet cried, but Sam either ignored him or didn't hear him. As the med bay door opened, he strode through, to see Trent trying to manhandle Mikaela towards the base exit. He took another step towards them, the foot landing so close to Trent and Mikaela that they couldn't avoid noticing his presence. They both looked up, and Trent paled.

"You heard her. Let her **_go_**!" Sam snarled, startling himself with how savage his new voice sounded when he was angry. Trent's reaction was dramatic, a textbook case, as Ratchet stated later, of fight-or-flight reaction in a human, at least at first.

He took his hands off Mikaela as if she was contagious. Trying to lighten his body for flight, his bladder, bowel, and stomach all voided themselves in quick succession. He backed off towards the exit to the foyer they were in, and then his body reacted in a negative-survival manner. His terror made his knees give way, and as he collapsed, his mouth opened in a loud and strangely high-pitched, piercing scream that seemed to continue for a long time. Then he collapsed in a dead faint.

Movement by his feet drew Sam's attention back to Mikaela. He noted with dismay that she, too, had reacted negatively to his angry voice, flattening herself against the nearest wall, with her hands raised in front of her chest. Sam backed off, hoping to seem less threatening to her. He was concentrating so hard on Mikaela that he didn't notice when another figure entered from the outside into the foyer. The first he knew of it was when a voice, full of disbelief, spoke.

" _Megatron_?" it growled. "What are you doing here, you piece of slag? You're not even supposed to be _alive_! Well, that issue can be easily resolved. I'll blast you back to the Pit where you belong!"

Sam looked up, and if he could have paled, he would have.

"Oh _shit_!" he whispered to himself. "Oh nonononono!" He knew the moment his optics saw the figure that had just entered that he was in trouble.

Standing in the entrance, powering up both of his cannons and adopting a threatening stance, was Ironhide.


	6. Reactions

Only One Model Available.

Reactions.

A/N: _ **Text like this is databurst conversation. Underlining is used to show emphasis along with CAPITALISATION**_.

Sam's own Cybertronian version of fight-or-flight kicked in. The joint servos in his torso, legs, and arms cycled up to a higher power level as he stiffened, and his head turned rapidly as his optics sought out shelter or a method of egress from the dangerous situation.

The med bay was not an option, as both Ratchet and Bumblebee were stood in the doorway, inadvertently blocking that as an avenue of retreat. Closer to him and not quite opposite the med bay was a closed door, but Sam knew that that door would not only provide no escape, but might make the situation worse for him. That door led to the R&R room, and he was sure Ratchet had mentioned new arrivals before this situation had arrived. More Autobots to confront him was the last thing he needed.

The exit to the outside was blocked by Ironhide's menacing form, so that was definitely out. The only other way that was open to him was down the main corridor. As Ironhide took another menacing step forwards, raising the cannons mounted on his forearms into firing readiness, Sam turned on one foot and took flight down the corridor.

He had only taken three long running strides before he ran into something-or rather some _one_ -with a resounding clang. The someone wasn't exactly small, either, just a few feet shorter than he himself was. Apart from Ironhide, only one other person in the Base answered that description, and Sam knew just who he had collided with before his processors registered the blue-and-red paintwork, and wide-shocked optics of the Autobot leader. It seemed that Trent's scream had been loud enough to penetrate into Optimus' office, and he had stepped out to investigate as Sam had taken flight.

Sam's instincts made him grab Optimus and swing around him. He crouched, holding the still shocked-speechless Optimus to him, for clinging to Optimus had always been safe before. Then he realised how ridiculous - and, more importantly, how _threatening_ -this must look, and released him. His optics noticed Ratchet's exit from the med bay, almost as an aside, then he was pelting down the corridor, darting around the corner, heading towards the crew quarters. Due to human fire regulations, he knew there would be a fire exit down there somewhere. A fire exit meant a chance to escape being blasted. His step faltered as he heard thunderous footfalls behind him, and realised Ironhide was pursuing him.

**_Sam! Listen to me!_ **

The sentence was not vocal, but sent as an urgent databurst. Instinct had Sam responding in the same way before he realised it. Some of the intonation used in vocal communications must somehow be encoded in the databurst, for he 'recognised' it.

**_Ratchet?_** he responded, seeking confirmation. **_Get him off me!_**

**_Yes, Sam, it's me. I've tried telling him to stop, but he's not listening and not receiving._** Ratchet replied. **_Stop running! Stop where you are, Sam!_**

**_Are you mad? Sam responded. If I stop now, Ironhide'll blast me to atoms!_** Sam could tell by the tempo of the impact tremors that the weapons specialist was gaining on him: being big and armoured didn't seem to slow him down that much.

**_Sam, stop, listen to me!_** That was Ratchet again. **_Stop, turn, sit on the floor, cross your hands at the wrists and raise them to chest-level, palms-down!_**

**_Why?_** Sam 'called.'

**_No time! DO IT!_ **

The level of desperation in Ratchet's communication, and Sam's trust in Ratchet, as well as the awareness that Ironhide was so close he could hear his cannons whining as they charged, decided it for Sam. He did as Ratchet asked. Turning on one foot, he dropped on his aft, crossed his wrists, and raised them as asked to chest level. He kept his optics shuttered, too scared to look up to confirm that the weapons specialist was inches from him. Even the thought of seeing those cannons aimed his way made Sam feel shaky. As a human, when he'd first seen that sight, he'd been nervous, and Ironhide had only been showing them to him.

The thundering footsteps stopped. He'd expected that.

"Wha-he's _surrendering?_ " Ironhide said, confusion evident in his voice. Sam heard the cannons powering back down.

He had not expected _that_.

Not that he was complaining.

"In that case, I am glad to see that you are obeying the Treaty of Iacon surrender protocols, and not firing on him, Ironhide." That was Optimus' voice.

"You surrender to us?" asked Ironhide.

" _Yes_!" whimpered Sam. Anything that stopped him being blasted to protoplasm sounded good to him at that moment.

"Easy, Ironhide, whoever that is, it is not my brother, despite appearances. "He would never surrender, not even under the threat of imminent and painful deactivation." Optimus said. "I must admit, an explanation of who it is and how he got here would be most enlightening and welcome."

The sound of Optimus' voice, plus the fact that he was still in one piece and alive, gave Sam the courage to unshutter his optics and look up, although he kept his body in the configuration that Ratchet had ordered.

Ironhide's cannons were still out, but were pointed at the floor and powered down. Optimus was just behind Ironhide, one calming hand on Ironhide's shoulder. As Sam watched, Ratchet caught them up, Mikaela on his shoulder and Bumblebee just behind him.

"If everyone stops reacting and gives me time - and turns on their data receptors, _Ironhide_ \- I can provide all the explanation that you need." said Ratchet, giving Ironhide's right shoulder a grumpy shove.

"I never turn on my data receivers in a battle situation, Ratchet, it's just a distraction. All it would take is one mistimed databurst at a vital moment and that's it!" said Ironhide. "You know that if Optimus needs to contact me in an emergency, he has the codes to turn them back on!"

"What about if your _medic_ has an urgent communication for you, Ironhide?" scowled Ratchet. He put his hand out. "The codes. Give." He paused, then continued. " _Now_!"

Ironhide sighed, knowing better than to argue with Ratchet when he used that tone of voice. His optics dimmed briefly as he transmitted the required information, and then Ratchet pushed Ironhide aside gently, looked at Sam, and asked "Sam, are you well? You have not been harmed?"

Both Optimus and Ironhide blinked their optics rapidly in confusion.

"Sam?" queried Ironhide, staring at him. He held out his thumb and forefinger, the tips about six feet apart. "But Sam's a human, he's only this big. How can that be Sam?"

"I think that we should all go in my office and hear Ratchet's explanation over some warm energon." Optimus said. "Then, maybe Ratchet can give us what is likely to be a long and convoluted explanation for all of this." He gestured at Sam then reached down, uncrossed Sam's wrists, and helped him to his feet.

"For it is unlikely that there is a simple explanation for this."


	7. Explanations

Only One Model Available.

Explanations.

They were all sat in seats that Optimus had in his office-the Government had provided them, and Optimus had adopted the human custom as a way of ensuring his larger and smaller officers could all look at each other optic-to-optic without having to risk kinking their neck cables.

Sam was sat in a big flier's chair. Although there were no flying types among the Autobots, Optimus had ordered a couple of the chairs, designed by Ratchet, in hope. They had wide, spreading backs to support wings, and Sam reflected that it was a wise move on Optimus' part, for in this body, he did count as a flier. On a higher chair to Sam's left, sat Bumblebee, with Mikaela sat on his lap.

Jazz was in the medical bay, having been told by Ratchet to get Trent undressed, showered, re-dressed in some Army spares borrowed from some that Will Lennox had left there, and put into bed to rest. Ratchet databurst him how to prepare a hot chocolate with human-effective sedative in it.

Miles was not there either: he had decided to help Ratchet out by letting Dewbot sate it's curiosity - to a point, he would not undress for it - about humans. When Ratchet had last checked, Dewbot was feeling the material of Miles' T-shirt with one hand, stroking his skin with another, offering Miles a can of Dew with a third, and listening intently to the music Miles had playing on his phone.

Optimus had poured all the Autobots a mug of warmed energon - a new experience for Sam, one he liked - from the dispenser he had in his room, and had earlier obtained some cans of Mountain Dew, probably from Dewbot, for Mikaela, the only human in the room.

Ratchet gave an explanation simple enough for all present to understand, but in enough detail to answer the questions people had, and then there was a slightly awkward silence as everybody took another look at Sam. He shifted his big metal feet in embarrassment at the scrutiny.

"So-if he's modelled on Megatron, how come his optics are blue?" queried Ironhide. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"I'm not sure, but I would surmise that the AllSpark Essence knew whose side Sam is on, and was able to make that change to the original pattern." said Ratchet.

"So, although he _looks_ like Megatron, and his voice _sounds_ like Megatron's-" started Ironhide.

"I'm not like him in any _other_ way, I hope!" Sam finished for him. "I know Trent's no friend of mine, but seeing him - and Mikaela, for that matter - so scared of me felt _awful_!"

"That in itself is reassuring,” Optimus stated. "There are some Cybertronians who would find engendering that sort of fear to be enjoyable, for the feeling of power it would give them. Sometimes I wonder if that is how my brother changed from the benign Lord Protector of our planet, whom I knew and loved, into the murderous tyrant that I sometimes felt I didn't know at all, that he became."

Sam thought through some of the stuff he'd seen on television, and some of the personal experiences he'd had in his short life, and nodded.

"Yeah, we have people like that on Earth, too,” he said.

"I guess I overreacted to the way you looked. Apologies," Ironhide said.

"No more than I did upon seeing him." said Bumblebee. I tried to shoot him, and when he grabbed me to stop me shooting, I-well, I offlined,” he said, in evident embarrassment.

"That's understandable,” Sam said. "Look at me! I saw my own reflection and ended up on my aft." Ironhide laughed. Sam looked at him. "So no worries there, Sir."

There was a knock, and Optimus opened the door by remote control. It was Jazz.

"Reporting to Ratchet, sir, the patient is finally asleep, and-Woah! Look out sirs! Duck and cover!"

Jazz sprang into the room brandishing his shield weapon. He had just spotted Sam.

"Get the human out, Bumblebee, get out, everybody, I'll hold this punk back as long as-huh?" Jazz's expression suddenly changed from terrified to surprised.

Sam, expecting something like this the moment he had realised it was Jazz at the door, had already reacted. He didn't want to pose a threat to Jazz, and even standing up could be interpreted as that, as he well knew. He did the only thing he could think of, something he hoped was universally accepted and understood, at least among the Autobots.

Wrists crossed, he raised his hands to his chest in the "surrender" position.

Jazz stared, keeping his shield out in front of him, but not, Sam was relieved to notice, starting to shoot. Ratchet turned to Jazz, and he must have databurst him the pertinent details, for Jazz briefly shuttered his optics before putting his shield away and saying "Sam, is that really you? What gives?"

Ratchet sent Jazz another databurst before Sam could speak uo, and Jazz looked up at Sam.

"The AllSpark Essence thought you were broken, and used _Megatron's_ body pattern to fix you? Man, that's gotta _suck_. Major bummer, Sam." He blinked.

"Hey, I have an idea, Sam. A new Earth alt-mode would make you look different, if that's what you want. Can't see you wanting to look like that big ugly forever,” Jazz commented.

Sam turned to Ratchet hopefully.

"Is he right, Ratchet? Would a new vehicle form change the appearance of my robot form?"

"It should do, Sam." Ratchet said as Optimus pushed Jazz towards a chair and drew him some energon from the dispenser. "The Cybertronian jet that Megatron favours as a mode of travel goes a _lot_ towards making him look the way he did-and thus the way _you_ do now," he said. "A new alt-form should give you a completely new look."

"Then what am I waiting for?" asked Sam.

"Practice," stated Ironhide. "To travel to get a new form - for only a flying vehicle would be big enough for your current form - you will need to be able to handle the Cybertronian jet. Flying's like walking, Sam, it'll come with practice, I imagine. I'm sorry that none of us can help you, we are all "groundlings" as certain fliers have been known to call us,” he grumbled.

"I would never call you that!" said Sam. "You're my friends!"

"Ah, whatever," said Ironhide, embarrassed. "I have been, and likely will be again, called worse things than that. Come on, we have an area at the back of the base big enough for you to practice transforming and flying in for a bit." He took Sam off.

Sam applied the same zeal to learning to transform and fly as he had to learning to walk, and as it was, he turned out to be a natural at both. Within six hours, he could execute the change from robot to jet and fly around so effortlessly that even Ironhide had to admit he was ready to go and get his new form whenever he wanted.

"You've been specially cleared by SecDef Keller to scan any aircraft at the nearby air base that will fit your mass, and that includes a few that are top secret otherwise. We explained the situation to him and he was very understanding,” Optimus informed him. "Epps will meet you there. You'll have to wait until it gets dark, to avoid scaring the natives. That's why the cometary forms tend to arrive around dusk or after dark."

"On that subject, Sir, we've been contacted saying that two more are coming tonight. We didn't get who they are, a solar flare garbled the ident bit, but they're definitely ours, Prime,” said Ironhide. Sam nodded, and headed back to the med bay to see Ratchet. He had a few hours before nightfall, and a few ideas on what he could constructively do with that time.

"Ratchet?" he called the medic as he went into the med bay.

"Yes, Sam?" asked Ratchet.

"My new alt-form should settle some of my body issues, right, but these teeth and claws bother me, and although he's not said anything, I'm sure they bother Bumblebee. Is there something you can do about them? Make the teeth flatter, or take them out or something? And the same with the claws? Take them off or something?"

"Yes, Sam, that should be possible. I can do something to make the teeth less dangerous-looking and I'll make the claws retractable. I can do that in a couple of hours for you now, if you want, I currently have the time," Ratchet assured him.

"Can't you take the claws off entirely?" asked Sam.

"I could, but it's inadvisable, Sam," Ratchet told him. "Your claws are your battling melee weapons, in some situations it's inadvisable to use a cannon, or your opponent has just got too close. Those claws could, one day, save your own life, or that of a fighting comrade, or a loved one."

Sam sighed. "Retractable it is, then,” he said. Ratchet took Sam's wrist-it was still odd to note that Ratchet's handspan didn't entirely circle the wrist-and led him to the operating table.

"Don't worry, Sam, between this operation and a new alt-form, you'll look like a completely new mech tomorrow," he said. He lay Sam back, and felt about to find his offline button.

"I certainly hope so." Sam managed to say just before Ratchet found it.

After the operation, Sam was actually very pleased with Ratchet's work. The claws _were_ retractable, _completely_ retractable, their exit point from his new, thicker, rounded-ended fingers not even visible if you didn't know to look for the seams. As for his teeth, they had been made flatter, and it certainly made him look friendlier. Ratchet had also added lips to the mouth, and this pleased Sam. He could smile in a fashion he was used to again.

When darkness had fallen, Sam stood out in the courtyard, leaped up, and folded up into his Cybertron jet form, before shooting off into the dark almost silently. Optimus and Ratchet watched him leave and went back inside.

It was five minutes after Sam had left that Ironhide told the people around that their two newest arrivals had turned up.

"They've landed between us and the air base and said they're on their way. We could call Sam, ask him to beep them and guide them back to the base on his way back to us."

"Who is it, Ironhide? Prowl and Hound?" Optimus asked hopefully. Mirage and Cliffjumper were okay, but at least he knew Prowl and Hound had sense.

"Sorry, Prime, no," he said after checking the data. He grimaced, knowing that Optimus, hoping for sensible, would be less than happy when he found out who the two were. "It's Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, sir."

Optimus sighed-a better reaction than Ironhide had expected, considering the reputation that pair had for pranks and mischief. "At least they're alive, and we can keep an eye on them as they discover an entirely new planet, and totally new pranks to pull on the inhabitants and us," Optimus said.

"I suppose I'll be patching them up again once Starscream and his bunch put in an appearance again. Slagging nuisances!" said Ratchet. Then his optics widened.

"Ironhide. Did you say they landed between us and the air base?"

"Yes," said Ironhide. Ratchet muttered something that was inaudible but didn't sound too polite. He headed for the door.

"What's up?" he asked, as realisation began to dawn on Bumblebee's face, and he followed Ratchet.

"They have landed between here and the air base, meaning they are probably between Sam and the air base, right?" Jazz said. "They would recognise Megatron if they saw him, in his robot or his jet form, as any of us would, right? You with me so far, 'Hide?"

"Yes,” said Ironhide, still looking puzzled.

"Sam is heading for they air base, in a Megatron style body, as a Cybertronian jet,” Jazz said. "You _know_ what the Twins do to Decepticon jets."

Ironhide finally realised what Jazz was getting at.

"You don't think they'll try to jet-judo Sam, thinking he's Megatron?" asked Ironhide. "Wouldn't they think Megatron is a bit much for just the two of them to deal with?"

"No, 'Hide I don't _think_ they'll try, I _know_ they'll try, given the chance! Those two don't have a byte of common sense between them!" said Jazz.

Optimus just groaned and put his head in his hands. "Oh, _Primus_ ,”he said. "I hope you're wrong, Jazz."

"So do I, Sam's had a lousy day already. Poor Sam." Jazz said.


	8. Systems Glitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text that is both bold and italicised indicates databurst speech. Whole sentences in italics indicate Sam’s thoughts. One character speaks in bold, to emphasise his voice.

Only Available In This Model.

Systems Glitch.

Sam flew fairly low and fairly slowly, revelling in the freedom of a flighted form. This was something he could never have done as a human. He had been given information on how to scan by Ratchet before he had left, and had placed it in an easily accessible part of his new Cybertronian memory.

Sam was surprised at how easily he was adapting to no longer being human. What Ratchet and Jazz had told him about a new alt-form altering his physical form had cheered Sam up: hopefully, when he returned, his new form meant Bumblebee would not be so scared of him any more.

He also realised that he could probably ask Ratchet to tweak the settings of his vocal processor a bit - or maybe a _lot_ \- so he wouldn't even _sound_ much like Megatron any more. That way he could stop living under that monster's shadow entirely.

Sam turned his attentions back to enjoying the sensation of flight. Once he'd got used to it, the spinning motion that seemed to be a natural part of his jet form's flight was not too disconcerting, and the feeling of the wind brushing over his skin - like a lover's caress, like Mikaela's hand had felt on his body when he was still human magnified a thousandfold - was magical. He had the freedom of the skies, a million views to discover and enjoy, and the feeling that this engendered in him was beyond description, so he stopped trying to explain it even to himself, and just immersed himself in it again.

Which is why Sam didn't even notice the two crouched figures ahead until they had leaped up and seized his wings, one pushing up with the direction of their leap, the other pulling down. They let out inarticulate war cries as they did so, and Sam felt himself beginning a spin that was not part of the natural movement of his jet form. It began to affect his flight path, pushing him downwards.

At first, Sam tried to fight the spin, but as his control weakened further, he realised that that was what his two attackers were expecting him to do. They were trying to ground him, he realised, trying to make him crash.

However, Sam was determined not to give up without a fight. Instead of fighting the spin, he went with it, spinning faster and faster while trying to angle upwards so he wouldn't crash.

All this took just a few seconds, and as Sam just cleared the ground and spun upwards, he felt his assailant's grips on his wings change from trying to disrupt his flight to just trying to hang on.

Sam was angry, and a bit scared. He had to get these two mad 'bots off, and nullify the threat they posed, and he had a plan. He had, on Ironhide's insistence, practiced a certain move over and over, and now he was glad.

His assailants finally lost their grips as, with one final tight spin, Sam transformed mid-air from jet to bipedal mode.

The two mechs - one red, the other with brighter yellow paintwork than Bumblebee's - landed twenty feet either side of him. He straightened, releasing his anger in a bellow.

"Try and make me crash, would you?" he roared.

 

He watched as the two mechs began to rise, saw the uncertain, worried looks on their faces, and was immediately sorry for his outburst. It was probably the same mistaken-identity issue he'd been going through all day. He was so tired of it, but he did not want to live out his newly-extended life scaring people by getting mad about it. Sam tensed, for worried as the two mechs looked, there was also a fiercely determined look on their faces that suggested that they weren't about to give up. Would either of them give him the time to explain who he really was and why he now looked the way he did? Probably not, he decided. Would they even accept the surrender-posture? Their madcap actions and the looks on their faces gave him little faith that they would.

Just as he was about to try anyway, after all it had worked with Ironhide and Jazz, he startled as laser fire sounded. He saw a laser blast strike the red mech, who dropped where he stood,  and seconds later a similar blast downed the yellow one.

It was at that moment that Sam became aware that neither the skies or the ground remained empty.

Sam and the two mechs were no longer alone.

 

Bumblebee had projected a display screen into Ratchet's cab, and using this, Ratchet and Bumblebee were using it to check up on the situation. As Sam's red Autobot logo and the other two Autobot logos, representing the two newly landed mechs on the screen suddenly overlapped, Ratchet said "Slag! They've got him!"

"Not quite," Bumblebee observed a few seconds later, as the logos flew apart. "Maybe he's managed to tell them somehow."

"Maybe, but-" Ratchet cut himself off as several purple pointed symbols swiftly surrounded and moved in on the three red Autobot logos.

"Bumblebee, we must hurry! They've got company!" said Ratchet, putting on a spurt.

"Decepticons!"

 

Three F-22 jets swooped down low and each flipped in midair, converting to robot form and landing. At the same moment, a police car, a red car, a security van and an SUV with a huge sound system installed in the back also drew up. Each converted into a robot as Sam watched. Of the seven Decepticons ranged around him, he recognised only two-the foremost jet had to be Starscream, and the police car was Barricade.

It was odd: the last time he'd seen Barricade, the Decepticon had towered above him. This time the positions were reversed. As he watched, another Decepticon he was all-too familiar with also put in an appearance: Barricade's bull-bars popped open and Frenzy crawled out of his special compartment in Barricade's chest. How, Sam wondered, had he survived? He was supposed to be dead, by all accounts, twice.

 

The leading jet stepped forwards. "Lord Megatron." came Starscream's voice. "We had thought you dead." Something about Starscream's tone told Sam that Starscream was less than pleased about Megatron's apparent rise from the ranks of the deactivated.

"Yes, Starscream," said Sam, furiously trying to think how Megatron would react, for he would have to play along, or risk the eight Decepticons engaging him in battle, probably all at the same time. He was big, but still relatively new to this body, and did not wish to be forced to find out by trial and error how to use his weapons. He decided to go along with his first observation.

"You do not seem as pleased to see me as I would have expected, Starscream," he said, managing to add a slightly menacing edge to his voice. Incongruously, he had the thought that his drama master in school would have been proud of the act he was putting on.

"Oh, it is merely the surprise of your appearance," Starscream said, and Sam was pleased to note that Starscream sounded a little nervous. "You know that I live only to serve you, Lord Megatron, as do my brethren, Thundercracker and Skywarp."

_'The other two fliers,’_ Sam guessed, but did not speak.

"How did you do it, Lord Megatron?" Starscream, continued. "How did you manage to survive the power of the AllSpark being driven into your chest?"

_'That's a good question. Unfortunately, I am the one who has to answer it convincingly.'_ Sam thought to himself.

Sam noticed that Starscream wasn't the only one to be wondering this: the same question was reflected in the seven pairs of red and one pair of blue optics regarding him. Once again, Sam realised, he would have to make a convincing job of persuading these eight mechs that he was the mech he'd been trying to convince everyone else that he wasn't.

An idea struck him.

"It seems that the AllSpark didn't quite destroy me-after all, it is more in the job of creating life rather than destroying it. My auto-repair was fixing my broken body while my spark lay feebly pulsing, so feebly it was almost undetectable. Those Autobots decided they wanted to use my apparently lifeless body for their own nefarious purposes, and I'm still not sure what those purposes were."

_’That_ ' thought Sam ' _will hopefully explain the blue optics, new fingers, and new teeth.'_ He continued to talk.

"They have presumed to tamper with my memory core and processors also. I have gaps in my knowledge. You and your other flying companions I recognise, but your groundling companions are unknown to me," he said. 

"These, my lord, are loyal soldiers to your cause. This is Barricade, and his small companion is designated Frenzy. They are amongst your most loyal followers," Sam was certain he spotted Starscream narrow his optics at Barricade as he said this, but decided to let it pass for now.

Frenzy stood still for all of three seconds in order to send him a respectful databurst. Barricade gave an incline of his head, raising a clawed hand to his waist, almost a bow, Sam noticed.

"Swindle," said Starscream, using one hand to indicate the red Decepticon. It nodded in his direction.

"Lord Megatron, I am at your service." it said, in a voice that Sam didn't like at all.

The hand indicated the security van next.

"Payload." Starscream said. It said nothing, and Starscream moved on to the robot that had been the SUV. It's faceplates were expressionless.

"This is Soundwave. Frenzy there is just one of six smaller robots inside him that are useful for a wide range of tasks," Starscream stated.

" **Lord Meg-a-tron** " intoned the purple 'bot with a voice that apart from a slight harmonic variance was as expressionless as its faceplates.

Sam quickly did some mental sums in his head. That made thirteen Decepticons versus himself and two Autobots who were in no fit state to fight. It seemed his instincts were correct, pretending to be Megatron had probably been the most sensible course of action. He just hoped he could be convincing enough to save his own hide, and that of his two downed companions, who, despite attacking him, were still on his side. He was wondering, however, just how he would get himself out of the horrible mess he was now in.

The answer - although it didn't seem to be such at the time - suddenly drew up on the nearby road, transforming even before they had stopped. Sam recognised Ratchet and Bumblebee. If they launched into a fight, he would be forced to help defend them - but at the same time, he'd be blowing his cover and possibly condemning himself, and them, to an untimely deactivation.

He realised that one wrong word from Ratchet or Bumblebee could blow his cover, condemning them all. He had to stop them from doing so any way he could. They had no way of knowing he'd (hopefully) fooled all the Decepticons from the start. However, he _did_ have an idea that, although he didn't like it, would solve the problem, and hopefully cement the Decepticon's trust in his identity.

**_Trust me!_** he databurst to Ratchet. Then, he accessed the part of his processors dealing with his weaponry. He found it easier than he had thought to access the settings, which was just as well, or he might have had to rethink his options.

Checking that his guns were set to a heavy stun setting, Sam then did the hardest thing he'd ever done.

Moving swiftly, he shot at and downed Bumblebee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Movie ‘bots in here, (this was another early story) and in Payload and Swindle’s case, they were based on the toys brought out when the first movie came out. In Swindle’s case, that was a single-opticed red toy with clawed hands that was brought out bearing the name. Quite different from the G1 (or any other) version.


	9. A Matter Of Trust

Only One Model Available.

A Matter Of Trust.

 

 _ **“Trust me!”**_ Sam databurst again as he saw horror at what he had done reflected in Ratchet's optics. Before Ratchet could reply or react, Sam sprang for Ratchet, bearing him to the ground, planting one big hand on his chest, extended claws touching (but not denting) the armour, as his other hand kept Ratchet's lethal saw-arm pinned to the ground.

"Lord Megatron, let us help you dispatch these weakling Autobots," called Starscream.

That was the _last_ thing Sam wanted. He turned his head.

"You think I am _incapable_ of dealing with three offlined and one captive Autobot, Starscream?" Sam said in a low, quiet voice, allowing the menace to colour his tone again. It worked.

"N-no, Lord Megatron, not at all, I thought merely to render assistance if you desired it," Starscream said, clearly scared now.

"Autobots made me suffer by interfering with me while I was thought to be deactivated. I will make them suffer in my _own_ way and in my own time. I _need_ no assist in my deserved revenge," he said, keeping the menace in his tone.

"Of course not, Lord Megatron, they are yours to deal with as you see fit," Starscream said. He sounded disappointed as well as scared, but at least the Seeker was not trying to challenge him, which was a good sign. It was one of the others who did not take the hint.

"Lord Megatron, you can't keep all the fun to yourself. Let us join in, I haven't ripped an Autobot apart for a millennia or two,” one of the other jets said coldly.

Sam looked at the speaker, not sure which of the two had spoken. Although Sam's optics were blue, the intensity of his gaze made the flyer step back. The problem was that Starscream had not identified the two fliers separately, so he had no idea which of the two, Thundercracker or Skywarp, had just spoken. He had to challenge him, but if he got the name wrong, he could lose his authority, and maybe his believability.

Something of his concern must have been apparent to Ratchet, who must have also worked out what he was doing and guessed his dilemma, for Sam got a short, quiet databurst of a single word from the captive medic beneath him.

 ** _Skywarp_** , Ratchet 'said'.

"I am perfectly capable of extinguishing their Sparks by myself. Challenge my authority again, Skywarp, and your Spark can join those of the Autobots in oblivion,” Sam said, feeling slightly unwell at the threat he was making. It had obviously been the right thing to say, however, for Skywarp backed off.

"I-I meant no disrespect, my Lord," Skywarp spoke nervously. "Please forgive me!" Sam ignored him, turning to speak to the group as a whole.

"Return to Base, all of you, and I shall follow when I am done here," Sam said, belatedly realising that maybe he should have confirmed with Ratchet that they _had_ a base. "If I deem you worthy, I may bring one back alive for you to play with for a while."

"Right away, Lord Megatron," Starscream said, sounding a little happier. "May I suggest that you bring back the two who dared to lay hands on your person? We will see to it that they pay _dearly_ for _that_ insult."

"Starscream, must you always challenge me? I have said I _may_ bring one back for you. Go, now, or must I make a painful example of you to the rest? I will not tolerate _treachery_ in my ranks, a traitor can expect only death."

Starscream backed off, sounding panicked.

"No, please, my Lord Megatron, I'm more use to you alive, please! I'm loyal, I'm no traitor! Decepticons, transform and return to Base, Lord Megatron will join us in his own time!"

Sam watched as the three fliers all wasted no time in lifting from the ground, Starscream first, before transforming and taking off at speed. The four larger non-flying Decepticons also transformed back into vehicle form, while the little but lethal Frenzy scrambled back into his place in Barricade's chest compartment.

Sam turned his attention back to Ratchet. Much as he would have liked to have watched the other Decepticons leave until they were out of sight, it was something he thought Megatron would be unlikely to do, and he did not wish to risk blowing his own cover, even with the three fliers now distant dots in the sky. Looking at Ratchet, who was either a good actor, or still genuinely scared of Sam when so helpless and vulnerable under Sam's large clawed hand, Sam hoped the brief shuttering of one optic - the nearest gesture he could make to a wink - would reassure the medic. He could not be certain, but he thought he felt Ratchet relax a little under his hands.

He counted five minutes, and, confident that they would all be gone - and not hearing engine noises to suggest otherwise - Sam lifted his hands off Ratchet, retracting his claws, and releasing the green Autobot.

"I'm sorry, Ratchet, I had to be sure they were gone." Sam explained as he stood, and Ratchet sat up. "Bumblebee's just been stunned, I thought I had best take him out, using a non-lethal setting, before any of the Decepticons decided to shoot him themselves." Sam reached out a hand, and Ratchet grasped it as Sam helped him back to his own feet.

"Sam, you would have made an excellent actor if you were still human. You were quite scary, and I knew you wouldn't really turn on us. If I hadn't known otherwise, _I_ would have believed you to be Megatron," Ratchet told Sam. The Autobot medic moved over to check Bumblebee, and then moved over to the red mech. "Sam, could you go and bring Sunstreaker over here by Bumblebee? I'd like to check them over, they are likely to need some basic repairs before they head back for base," the medic said, stooping to pick up his red patient.

Sam guessed that Sunstreaker was the yellow mech that had been downed by the fliers when they had found him. Sam went over, saw the marks the laser had made on the head of the yellow mech, and winced: the metal looked stressed. The mech would probably have one heck of a headache when he woke. Stooping, Sam carefully lifted the yellow mech into his arms, who was bigger than Bumblebee, but still, beside Sam, comparatively small.

He must have already been regaining consciousness, for the movement made him groan, and his optics unshuttered and flickered. They flared to full brightness, and then widened as Sunstreaker's processors, obviously undamaged, registered the face above him as that of a lethal enemy. Sam heard a whine as Sunstreaker's right arm reconfigured to a cannon not unlike (although bigger) than Bumblebee's. Sam suddenly found himself looking down the business end of it as Sunstreaker brought it to bear on Sam's face. Sam's reaction was purely instinctive, as he dropped Sunstreaker and threw himself to one side.

The cannon went off, but between Sunstreaker's fall and Sam's dodge, the bolt did not connect with anything. As Sam rolled back to his feet, he saw that Ratchet, too had acted. Ratchet had run over to Sunstreaker, and grabbed his cannon, pointing it to the ground, saying "Sunstreaker, stop that!"

"Ratchet, it's Megatron!" Sunstreaker's optics had located the red mech. "Sides?" There was no movement from the red mech, and Sunstreaker swung around to face Sam, anger clearly displayed on his face as he pulled his cannon from Ratchet's grip, swinging it around to bear on Sam again. "What have you done to my brother, you worthless heap of slagged scrap metal?"

Ratchet's gasp was enough to tell Sam that to a Cybertronian, that had to be a strong insult. As Sam tensed and got ready to dodge again, he crossed his wrists at chest level, although he had an idea that 'surrendering' would do no good: Sunstreaker would likely try to shoot him anyway.

"Sunstreaker, stand down your weapons _now_! Do you seriously believe that if Sam there was Megatron, you'd still be _alive_ after what you just called him? Look at him, standing in front of you, wrists crossed! Megatron's response to your comment could have been one of many, but surrendering _wouldn't_ have been one of them!" Ratchet had by now got to Sunstreaker and was pushing his cannon down again.

This obviously gave Sunstreaker something to think about.

"But-he looks like Megatron, and we were attacked!" he said, still not powering down his cannon but, Sam was relieved to see, not fighting Ratchet's grip on it either. "Just look at the state of my paintwork!" Sure enough, as well as the laser burn on his head, Sunstreaker had several very nasty-looking scratches to his paintwork, and a couple of dents to his bodywork.

"Attacked, yes, but by three Seekers, not by Sam there." Ratchet told him. "In fact, Sam is the reason you're still here, and alive. Sam managed to persuade the Decepticons that he _was_ Megatron and would deal with you himself, or you might have been torn apart here, or worse, captured and subjected to the not-so-tender mercies of Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp. Considering how much of a nuisance you've made of yourself to those three Seekers, I don't think I need to tell you that between Skywarp's vicious tendencies, and Starscream's scientific curiosity, cruelty, and inventiveness, I don't think they would have made your death quick _or_ painless. Between three fliers and four ground-bounds - two of those quite large - they could have easily taken you back with them had Sam not intervened. Starscream actually asked to be allowed to take you and your brother back to deal with personally, and Sam was able to refuse, and give Starscream a fright for asking in the first place," Ratchet chuckled. “Sam, I’ll have to teach you how to play your memories through your optics, I think the whole Base would like to see you putting the fear of Primus into Starscream and his Decepticons.”

There was a groan from the red mech, and that took Sunstreaker's attention. Both he and Ratchet moved over to the red mech's side. Sam decided to stay where he was with his wrists still crossed, although he sat, to make himself less threatening.

"Sideswipe! Sides, are you okay?" asked Sunstreaker. "Don't worry about Old Megs over there, I have it on good authority from Ratchet that he's just someone who looks like him."

"Then who or what hit me?" said Sideswipe, sitting up and raising one hand to his head. "I feel like I've been whacked by the back end of a space bridge!" He stood up.

"It was one of the three Seekers, either Starscream, Skywarp, or Thundercracker. They got me, too, and it's a good thing for us that the Megatron look-alike over there was about. From what Ratchet said, he apparently saved our afts from Starscream's lot," Sunstreaker told his brother.

Sideswipe gave an alarming-sounding growl.

"Next time I see that Seeker, I'm gonna hammer _his_ aft into a shovel!" he said.

"I'll join you, brother, and we can punish all three of them, after all, we don't know who fired, so we'll make the three of them pay!" Sunstreaker said.

"Will you two aft-heads lie down, or will I have to stun you _myself_ in order to patch you up?" grumbled Ratchet at them, grabbing Sideswipe's shoulder and pushing him back to a sitting position. The Twins, with a little more verbal sniping, finally acquiesced, and as Ratchet was completing a running repair on Sunstreaker (he treated Sideswipe first), Bumblebee came to with a groan.

Ratchet was by him in an instant.

"Sam only shot you to stop the Decepticons doing so first. Don't be scared of Sam, Bumblebee, he kept those Decepticons from tearing us apart." He chuckled again. "Sam put on such a good act, he out-deceived the Decepticons."

"Uhhh….okay, Ratchet." said Bumblebee, after looking over at where Sam was sat, maintaining his non-threatening surrender pose. "Are you okay, Sam?" Bumblebee lifted a hand to beckon him over. Sam stood, uncrossed his wrists, and carefully walked slowly over, stopping out of his arm's reach, for he figured the Twins and Bumblebee would still be understandably nervous.

"I'm fine, Bumblebee, and I'm glad you two are okay as well," said Sam, turning his head to nod to the Twins, both of whom looked up at him. Their optics settled on his newly blunted finger tips, wandered up to his lipped, flat-toothed mouth, and finally wandered up to meet the optics as blue as their own.

"Thanks," said Sideswipe. "Sorry about the jet-judo. Mistaken identity."

Sam sighed.

"Yeah, don't I just know it, I've been getting the same sort of reaction from the rest of you lot all day!" Sam said.

"All the more reason, Sam, for you to continue on your way and gain your new alternative form," Ratchet said. "Another good reason is to make sure that Starscream doesn't come back and have an 'accident' with his cluster bombs. He will _not_ be pleased to suddenly have, as he would see it, his new leadership of the Decepticons taken away so suddenly by a seemingly revived Megatron. We'll head back to base, you get your new vehicle mode, and then come back and join us. By then, I can explain to these two who you are and how you got like that, and tell all three what a brilliant performance they missed while knocked out."

"Right away, Sir!" Sam responded. He leaped up into the air, converted back into jet form, and flew off.

"Come on, you three,” Ratchet said, once Sam had flown out of sight. "Let's all get back to the base."

The four all transformed, and headed back to the Autobot base.


	10. The End Is Just The Beginning

Only One Model Available.

The End Is Just The Beginning.

 

Sam reached the air base, a little later than scheduled, without further incident, and Sam assumedthat Ratchet had radioed ahead that he'd been delayed.

He was met by five soldiers, plus Epps, who waved: he had obviously been appraised of the situation.

"Stand down, men, despite appearances, he's one of the friendlies,” he said. Then he looked up at Sam, and smiled.

"Hey, Sam, you've changed from the last time I saw you," he called up to him. Sam smiled back.

"That's gotta be the understatement of the millennium, sir," he said. Epps dismissed the five soldiers, and indicated for Sam to follow him as he walked away.

"Come this way, Sam, we've been given your rough volume and mass, and arranged any appropriately massed vehicles for you to choose from. Most of them are jets of one type or another, and although an F-22 _is_ within the range you'd need, and has been included in the selection, my personal advice would be to choose something different. We now have intelligence that indicates that there are now at least three Decepticons on the planet with that particular disguise, and unless you can think of a good way to differentiate yourself from them, things could get very confusing, and potentially dangerous for you if you become a victim of mistaken identity by members of the American armed forces."

Sam shuddered. "I have had enough mistaken identity issues today to last several lifetimes, and can confirm your intelligence, having seen the three myself today," he said. "Don't worry, I _won't_ be taking F-22 form. I've been mistaken for Megatron several times too often, I _don't_ particularly relish the idea of being mistaken for Starscream, _or_ any of his brothers!"

 

Epps led Sam over to a succession of hangars.

"I probably don't really need to explain this to you, but it's my job, so I've gotta do it." Epps said. "What you are about to see is absolutely top secret, and some of these vehicles are classified above and beyond that. Sam, you are being divulged a glimpse of some of our military capability that some generals are not even cleared to know. Beyond the vehicular form you choose, you are not to mention the other vehicles you will see today to anyone. There will be certain secrets with even whatever you do choose, that I shall have to instruct you not to speak of to anyone about."

"Sure, that's cool." Sam replied.

Half an hour later, Sam, in the guise of a B-2 Spirit stealth bomber, took off from the air base. Although the B-2 was now slightly dated, Sam had loved its sleek lines, and its spreading wings left plenty of room for his huge arms and legs. Anyway, it was mainly a disguise, for Sam knew he could hit and hold speeds that would have ripped a real B-2 apart.

It was subtly different from the original that he had scanned: to avoid ident problems, he had changed the number to one that had not existed until a quarter of an hour ago: Epps had promised to have a bogus file for 'his' Spirit entered into the military computer, requiring a high clearance code to access. Even those not in the know with the password would not know his real identity: the file contained only a notation that 'his' Spirit was on a covert mission, and not able to be requisitioned for any other purpose. 

For those in the know, the name 'The Spirit of Cybertron' - the name Sam had given his new form, that was painted on its side - would be enough to tell them that it was him. Currently, there were less than nine people in the military hierarchy and Government who knew, and until and unless it became necessary to tell him, the President was not one of them.

 

Sam got back to the Autobot base and landed, transforming to robot form for the second time after scanning the Spirit. Bumblebee and Ratchet were waiting outside for him. The unasked question - had his new Earthly alt-form done enough to change the way he looked? - was answered as Bumblebee relaxed and walked over to Sam.

"Sam, you look great!" he said.

Sam stepped forwards, hands out, picking the little Autobot scout up and clasping him to his chest in an embrace.

"Thanks, 'Bee." Sam said. Bumblebee did at first stiffen, but quickly relaxed as he felt Sam's arms move to comfortably support his form, and he hugged Sam back, spreading his arms across Sam's wide chest as much as he could.

Ratchet stepped forwards, and Sam turned to face him, still clasping his Autobot friend to him.

"Ratch, is there any chance you could alter or change the vocal processor I have so I have a voice that's all mine as well, rather than so like Megatron's?" he asked.

"Yes, Sam, but that'll have to come later, as we now have a new problem that will require your fairly immediate input to solve. At least I hope it can be solved fairly easily," Ratchet said.

"What's that?" Sam asked, stooping and carefully putting Bumblebee back on his feet. Ratchet sighed.

"An added complication that we should have seen coming, but did not, Sam," Ratchet said. "You know that you've been here for about two weeks since you began your abrupt change of form?"

"Well, no, I didn't, not till now." Sam said. Ratchet shook his head and sighed again.

"With everything else that happened after you woke, I guess we didn't get around to telling you that," Ratchet said. "Well, it _has_ been two weeks, Sam, and we now need you to come in and show yourself to, and explain to your parents, what has happened to you, please, and what you look like. They are inside now and were fairly insistent that they see you.”

"Oh no!" whispered Sam.

Just when he'd thought that all of his problems were over…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s somewhat short, and ends a little abruptly, but if I have an idea to write a little about meeting the parents, I’ll write it.


End file.
